


Masks

by Skylark42



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 07:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20170618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark42/pseuds/Skylark42
Summary: The Monster wants, so the Monster takes





	Masks

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. There's no excuse for this, I just wanted to write something fucked up.

There is nothing real between them.

Every glance, every touch, every moment is a lie, a fabrication of a memory that falls far too short to be believable. Quentin accepts it because it's all he has.

The Monster wants, so the Monster takes. He wears Eliot's face, but these hands feel foreign on his body, these kisses leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

He breaks and breaks and breaks. Every time the monster pins him against the wall, every thrust, every pretty little lie _(he's still in here, he wants this)_ every half truth _(I love you)_ tears off more of him. The Monster is destroying him piece by piece.

Soon there will be nothing left.

A hand wraps around his throat and Quentin can't breathe and he wonders if this is it, if this is when the Monster finally gets bored and kills him. Then he kisses him, kisses him like he's something precious, like Eliot might if he were still here.

“You're my favorite toy,” the Monster whispers in his ear.

Quentin's vision goes fuzzy. The Monster's thrusts become more erratic. There's a hand, rough and calloused and cruel wrapped around him, jerking him until he comes, nauseous and dirty.

This thing between them is toxic, but it's all Quentin has left of Eliot. The Monster wears his mask, so Quentin wears his own. He pretends he is whatever the Monster wants him to be, and he lives another day. They all live another day.

The Monster smiles, soft, sweet, and vicious. (He loves to play pretend) “I love you, Q”

Quentin closes his eyes. “No games.”

The Monster traces a finger over the curve of Quentin's lips. “You're mine.”

It's the only thing he's ever said that's true.


End file.
